


In the Cookie Jar

by 3988Akasha



Category: Revolution (TV)
Genre: M/M, Multi, Spanking, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-10
Updated: 2013-01-10
Packaged: 2017-11-25 01:01:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/633426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/3988Akasha/pseuds/3988Akasha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Being a secretary is hard work and sometimes Jeremy just needs something a little extra to help him get through the day. It's not his fault it's kept in Miles' locked cupboard.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In the Cookie Jar

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Dragomir](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dragomir/gifts), [Timid_Timbuktu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Timid_Timbuktu/gifts).



> This is an addition to the 'verse started by [dragomir](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Dragomir/pseuds/Dragomir). You should totally read hers first: [ Did You See Me Coming?](http://archiveofourown.org/works/633125)

Jeremy knew he didn't need to sneak into Miles’ office while he was out doing whatever it is Generals did when they wern't screwing the President into the nearest flat surface, but it somehow made it more exciting. He blamed his inner child. Even if someone caught him, which they wouldn't, it wasn't as though they could do anything about it. Of the people in the Republic, Jeremy was meant to be in General Matheson’s private office. He’s the secretary, a plebian title if he ever heard one but it always made Bass laugh, so he allowed it. Since most of the men already viewed him as the Republic’s whore, he figured being a secretary would be a step above the red-light district he apparently lived in…which was the reason for this specific instance of breaking and entering. With a key, but he didn’t focus on the details.

He knew Miles kept the good stuff hidden and sometimes wondered if he hid it so he was only able to get into when he was sober. The goal seemed to be to keep the good whiskey for special occasions, which were not Miles’ weekly lapses into a drunken stupor induced by something going wrong somewhere in the Republic which Miles always took as some sort of personal reflection on his abilities, as though the man was singlehandedly responsible for every bonehead move every member of the Republic made. No, the good stuff was used for nights when they were curled up in front of the fireplace listening to Bass read to them from some rather pretentious author about things they’d never have again, even if they got the power back.

The secret stash had a different purpose for Jeremy. For him, it was an escape, it was his way of dealing with the shit he interfaced all day long, the petty bullshit he kept out of The Office. They really needed to find some snappy name to give it, to distinguish it from the numerous other “official” offices in the building. Using The Office with air quotes just lacked the sort of professional airs he was going for when referring to the General’s office. He’d work on that tomorrow. After he snagged the whiskey. He kept it in the bottom drawer of his desk, the only one that locked and quite possibly the only lock in the Republic Miles and Bass didn’t have a key to, not that it really mattered but the knowledge did make him feel warm.

As he worked the pick he had a moment where he almost felt bad about using skills he’d been taught by Miles against him, but he shrugged it off. It was always easier to ask for forgiveness than permission. He hoped. Having a locking drawer wasn’t exactly dangerous business…not in the same way that taking Miles’ liquor was. He soothed his conscious by assuring himself that Miles would give him some, if he were to ask and it’s what he would tell Miles if he was ever caught by the man in question.

“Ah,” Jeremy breathed as he felt the last tumbler fall into place.

He opened the cupboard door and reached for the whiskey. The labels on the bottles were all faded, and most had blood stains, which Jeremy just actively chose to ignore. Just like Bass collected ridiculous antique basins and other _Home and Garden_ shit, Miles collected liquor…sometimes rather forcefully.

“Personally, I think the Eagle Rare 17 Year Old is a better choice,” Miles commented.

Jeremy likes to think he didn’t flinch like a pussy, but that would be a lie. He nearly hit his head on the little over hang on the top of the cupboard. Because he could, Jeremy put back the Baker’s 7 Year Old and grabbed the Eagle Rare.

“I’m going to put a bell on you,” he replied without turning around.

He heard Miles laugh, which was encouraging. Enough for Jeremy to stand to his feet and face the General and his smirking face. If only people really knew what Miles was like when he wasn’t slaughtering people because it was Tuesday…

“You’re the reason my private selection has been dwindling.”

Jeremy shrugged in a noncommittal way. There wasn’t much he could say when he was caught with his hand in the cupboard.

“Don’t you have a key to that?” Miles asked, confused.

Jeremy could feel himself being to blush. Now he’d have to explain everything. Which was mortifying because while fancying himself James Bond in his own mind as he snuck into a cupboard he had a key to was fine and good, it was something else entirely to explain the same delusions of grandeur to his boss. Who would, just because he was a bit of a bastard, remind him of it at every occasion, and quite possibly hum the theme music when no one else was listening. And all of this, before he told Bass who was the one with the real sense of humor, if you squinted and found humiliation at the most inopportune times amusing, which, well, he did, but that was hardly the point.

“It sort of defeats the purpose, Miles.”

“Which would be?”

Jeremy fumbled with his fingers, feeling like that kid who forgot it was his day to give the oral report in class and now the teacher was giving him _that_ look…and why did he have to imagine an oral report with Miles standing in front of him? He could just imagine the type of presentation Miles would want and while it wasn’t exactly a bad image, it wasn’t what he needed right now because he was already blushing to the point where he could feel the tips of his ears.

“Well?” Miles asked, amused impatience slipping into his voice.

“I was sneaking around and having a key destroys the whole sneaking around thing,” Jeremy admitted, finding the toe of his shoe oddly fascinating.

“Why would you sneak around?”

“It’s more fun that way, okay? It’s not like I can get ‘caught’ sneaking around in here, not really.”

Miles took a step closer to him and Jeremy forgot to breathe for a moment, noticing the way Miles’s eyes darkened with a new sort of interest.

“Would you like to get caught, Jeremy?”

Well, that was it. Jeremy would never again imagine himself to be James Bond, or anything other than Jeremy Baker. Never. Mostly because he shivered at Miles’ question, liked the way the words wrapped around him and made him feel so deliciously _dirty_. He was pretty sure they both had other things they needed to be doing, but he couldn’t seem to make his mouth work.

“What sort of punishment should I devise for you, Captain?” Miles asked himself, his hand stroking his chin in a way that always made Jeremy think of wizards with long beards.

“A breach of security like this can’t simply be ignored,” Miles continued, somehow knowing Jeremy was hanging on every word, damn near panting like some adolescent who’d just gotten his first boner.

“Please,” Jeremy whispered.

Miles quirked an eyebrow up, “Please, what, Captain?”

Damn him, Jeremy thought. How could he expect him to come up with coherent anything when he was circling him like a hawk around a piece of fresh meat? His palms were all sweaty and his throat was dry. He couldn’t make words come, but he did manage a pathetically needy whimper, which he was sure he’d feel mortified about later, but not now. Because he fucking _needed_. The adrenaline from sneaking around, from being caught, from knowing Miles was engaging in this game with him. It was all too much.

Miles leaned in, his lips a whisper against his neck. “Bend over, Captain.”

Jeremy felt his eyes widen as all the blood in his body pooled in his dick. He nodded stupidly, but did as he was told. He felt Miles’ hands on his ass, gently caressing. Miles reached around and undid the button and zipper, his movements efficient and not sexual at all, but Jeremy felt the contact all the way to his toes. Cold air assaulted his exposed ass as Miles pulled his trousers down to his ankles. This was another thing he’d be sure to be embarrassed about tomorrow, when he wasn’t quite so turned on by it.

“It’s important for you to know that stealing from me is a poor decision to make, Captain,” Miles said as he massaged Jeremy’s ass.

Miles’ hand connected sharply with his exposed flesh and Jeremy cried out, the sudden pain unexpected. It wasn’t unpleasant, more of a warm, tingly sensation. Miles repeated the action several times and Jeremy couldn’t keep his hips from bucking against the counter, his dick seeking more friction. There was something too erotic about the whole experience. He knew his ass would be red, knew it would burn to sit, but he couldn’t find it in him to care. If anything, it made that warm feeling he usually got when he thought about Miles and Bass get warmer.

“Miles?” Bass asked.

“Two bells,” Jeremy muttered. “I’m getting two fucking bells.”

“He decided to sneak around and steal from my secret stash,” Miles informed Bass.

“I’m sorry I’ve accused you of indulging without me,” Bass commented, the same sort of amusement in his voice that Miles’ had had earlier.

Jeremy looked at Bass when he heard the distinctive sound of a zipper being drawn down. He was happy he did, too. Miles had one hand, the one that wasn’t kneading Jeremy’s tender ass, locked around Bass’ neck and he was kissing Bass deep and sloppy. Bass was taking off his own trousers, one hand around his semi-erect dick as he slowly stroked himself.

Bass moved out of Miles’ grip with a dirty, wet sound and moved around to stand in front of Jeremy. He opened his mouth and Bass slid his dick in slowly. Jeremy was going to move one of his hands from where he’d probably left finger indentations on the counter, but couldn’t because Miles had slicked is finger up and was slowly working it into his hole. Instead he just hummed around Bass’ dick as the man continued to thrust his dick down Jeremy’s throat.

It didn’t take Miles long to prep him, and it was probably more than he really _needed_ , but Miles was a stickler for certain things, and he always made sure he was ready. When he felt the head of Miles’ dick against his hole he reminded himself to breathe through his nose, because Bass’ dick was still in his mouth. When Miles slid all the way in, he had to wrench his mouth off Bass dick as he groaned. He never really got tired of this, of feeling Miles inside of him as Bass fucked into his mouth. If he were honest, it was one of his favorite pastimes, and lucky for him the rulers of the universe were also horny bastards with seemingly insatiable appetites for all things sex.   

As Miles’ pace picked up, he could hear the sounds of Miles and Bass kissing above him, the smacking sounds as they each tried to devour the other. He smiled around Bass dick because he was pretty sure he’d get to watch Miles fuck Bass into the wall later, and it was always a sight to see. He was pulled from his wandering thoughts when Miles hit his prostate several times in rapid succession. He didn’t know whose hand it was, and really, didn’t care, but, whosever hand it was deserved a medal because of how it was working over his dick in time with Miles’ thrusts. Jeremy increased his efforts on Bass’ dick, determined to make at least one of the fuckers, pun not as intended as it could have been, come first. He could hear the little broken noises Bass was making, felt the stutter in the rocking of his hips and knew he’d get his wish. It wouldn’t be by much, he could feel his own orgasm building up, Miles apparently as determined to get him off first.

In the end, he wasn’t really sure who came first because it all sort of felt like a blur of groans and shouted profanities that might have been prayers. All he knew was Miles was draped on top of him, placing little kisses along the back of his neck while Bass was kissing him in earnest, no doubt tasting himself on Jeremy’s tongue. It was a few minutes before any of them could move and even then, it wasn’t far. Miles wandered off to find something to wash them up with while Jeremy and Bass sort of slid to the floor, still floating on the post-orgasm cloud of sated limbs.

“I hope you’ve learned your lesson, Captain,” Miles said as he threw a warm rag at Jeremy.

Jeremy smiled slyly. “Oh yes, sir.”

It wasn’t a lie, either. Jeremy did learn his lesson. Sneaking around without permission was _always_ more fun. 

**~FIN~**

**Author's Note:**

> I blame my own comments, but seriously it was just fun. And it's Jeremy. 
> 
> Unbeta'd ... so anything you see, drop me a line.


End file.
